


A Thousand Years

by LemonCakeDesign



Series: Writer's Month 2020 Fics [5]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: M/M, Mythology - Freeform, Soulmates, Speculation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:28:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25744345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LemonCakeDesign/pseuds/LemonCakeDesign
Summary: I have died everyday, waiting for youDarling, don't be afraid, I have loved you for a thousand yearsI'll love you for a thousand moreOrpheus reads a myth.
Relationships: Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch/Warrior of Light
Series: Writer's Month 2020 Fics [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1862386
Kudos: 8
Collections: Writer's Month 2020





	A Thousand Years

Old myths—the tales we told ourselves to explain how the world around us works—have very little place in Amaurot, these days. There was, after all, little reason to tell a story of lightning being crafted from the hands of gods if you knew that it was actually a phenomenon born from the electric discharge of the ground and sky.

There were still stories, of course, but not  _ myths _ .

But Amaurot keeps all records of the world, no matter how inconsequential. In Anamnesis Anyder, the myths are recorded, catalogued, and filed away, along with everything other written work. They are available for reference at any time, for anyone who’s interested. They are very, very rarely accessed, however; save for the occasional history project, the only person who reads them is the Keeper of the Lore.

Orpheus traces a hand over the books on the shelf. They’re an archaic form of record keeping, but he likes them. He likes the way the papers crinkle under his hands, the weight of the cover, how he can see the imperfection of the ink where the printing had erred. It feels... _ alive _ , in a way. 

This is where they keep the myths, section 398.2—a motley collection of digital and analogue records of the way their predecessors saw the world. It’s Orpheus’ favorite part of Anamnesis, though hardly anyone knows that, and he’s still working his way through each of the records.

He selects a book from the shelf, squinting at the unfamiliar script for a moment. It takes time to sort through all the languages he knows, and he doesn’t dare use a translation spell on the book, as they can interfere with the preservation spells that are already layered on it. Finally, he recognizes it as Hellenic script, and translates the name.

“Myths of Hellas,” he murmurs. 

One of the few he hasn’t read yet, then. Orpheus smiles and sits at the nearby table, opening the book to a random page. 

_ Humans were originally great creatures, with four legs, four arms, and two heads. They held great power within themselves, and as such thought to challenge the gods themselves. This was an affront, even if they did not succeed, and Zeus was to punish their hubris, so that they would not attempt again. But to destroy them would be to take away a source of adulation and pride, which the gods did feast upon just as well as their nectar and ambrosia. And so, the Mighty Zeus decided to split the primordial human, and separate them into two halves—each with one half of a soul each. The humans began to weep and cry, unused to being two when they were one. Apollo took pity on them, and wove their wounds closed, but could not make them whole once more. _

_ Now, humans search for the other half of their soul, and find themselves crying out in pain until they do. _

A bell rings, and Orpheus sighs. He closes the book and reshelves it, then heads to check on what needs his attention.

* * *

“Have we proven the concept of soulmates, yet?” Orpheus asks Hades, that night over dinner.

It’s one of the rare nights they get to spend together. As one of the few with the ability to stare into the depths of the soul and comprehend what they see, Hades was  _ busy _ . He was asked for consults hourly, and though he could occasionally direct them to one of his less-esteemed colleagues, it usually required his hand.

Orpheus wasn’t nearly as busy all the time; the thing about being the Keeper of the Lore was that everyone wanted to consult everything  _ but _ him. He was only ever asked to find a record or information for someone, not interpret it. And that suited him  _ just _ fine. He understood information much better than he understood people.

People save Hades, of course.

Hades pauses to swallow the bite of food in his mouth. “I don’t believe so, no.”

“Hm. Shame.”

“What brought this on?” Hades tilts his head. “I thought you couldn’t care less about soul research.”

He couldn’t. Hades, by nature of his own abilities, thought the soul to be  _ fascinating _ , and would stop at nothing to talk, at length, about it. But soul research always...unsettled Orpheus. He’d had one bad experience with a soul experiment gone wrong and had sworn off the idea for the rest of his existence.

He shrugs. “Got to reading for a bit, today, before I needed to catalogue the batch of new data. A book on Hellenic myths, ancient. It mentioned the concept of people being split and actually only containing half a soul, the other half in your ‘soulmate’.”

Hades snorts. “Preposterous. You’ve seen those with soul damage, Orpheus—to imagine we were operating at only half a soul is unthinkable.”

“Of course,” Orpheus agrees. “But I thought...maybe the concept of two people’s souls resonating, who match perfectly...it’s a bit romantic, isn’t it?”

“Is this your way of asking if we’re soulmates?” Hades asks, giving Orpheus a shrewd look.

Orpheus pauses, then shakes his head. “No. I don’t think if you did know the answer, I wouldn’t like to know. It doesn’t matter to me, after all. I love you.”

“And I, you.” Hades smiles, and takes Orpheus’ hand.

* * *

Years and years after the Sundering, when Hades takes on the form of Emperor Solus zos Galvus, that conversation bubbles up. It seems ironic, to some degree, as he stares out at the shards of people,  _ his  _ people. He wonders if they chanced to meet another shard of themselves, how they would feel.

“Your Excellency,” the aide says, as he lounges in his throne, and Hades shakes himself from the thoughts. “The Frumentarii are ready to be presented.”

Hades waves a hand lazily, and the aide nods, disappearing through a nearby door. He sighs to himself. The day to day life of being an Emperor, he finds, is a lot more boring than most people would believe. He can’t wait for the day that he can finally die and go rest for a hundred years, and make one of the lesser Ascians take over tipping the world into another Calamity.

The doors open, and a rank of Frumentarii enters. They think they’re stepping so silently, but to him, they seem as graceless as newborn fawns. None of them catch his eye.

None, but...

At the end of the line, a shock of dark blue hair is just visible, along with a pair of fluffy ears—a Miqo’te, which is rare, but not altogether surprising. This Frumentarius is  _ much _ smaller than his cohort, and as he finally becomes visible, Hades can see that he’s much younger, as well. 

That’s not what shocks Hades, however. What’s shocking is that the boy is Orpheus. As much of Orpheus as there is that still exists, anyway.

He hides the shock well, barely widening his eyes for a fraction of a second before pulling the veneer of boredom back over his face. None of them notice, except the Orpheus shard (some things never change, apparently), but his attention is quickly diverted as the recruits are introduced. The names wash over Hades like white noise, barely comprehensible and just as easily dismissed.

It’s not the first time Hades has confronted one of Orpheus’ shards—far from it, in fact. He was one of Hydaelyn’s favorite toys to drag out around Calamity time, tempering him to her will before Hades would even see him. It was a cruelty, and he damned Venat for it. Nobody knew of their relationship better than Orpheus’ apprentice.

“Pike eir L’oatel,” Aper, the spymaster, announces.

Orpheus’ shard steps forward, and gives a perfect Imperial salute. His eyes, purple (the same color of Orpheus’ soul, damn that crystal—) are glassy, and stare into the distance just above Hades’ shoulder. The body is here, but the mind is elsewhere. For a brief moment, Hades feels guilt stream over him for the cruelty that’s clearly been visited on his former lover, but he sees the strands of Hydaelyn’s tempering choking around Orpheus’ shredded soul, and the part of him that belongs to Zodiark takes over, wiping anything but “ **KILL HER SERVANT** ” from his mind.

He nearly does. Nearly just takes his gun and shoots him right then and there. But Orpheus’ shard looks at him, eyes flaring with interest for just a moment, and he relinquishes his hold on the weapon. It matters very little, after all. If Orpheus is in  _ his _ empire, he’s more than powerless to stop him—he’s complicit.

He gives vague approval, and the recruits give one last salute before turning and departing. Hades watches Orpheus go the entire time, then sighs.

“I think I would like to retire for the evening,” he says to the aide. He watches her take a quick look out the window at the noon-day sun, then nod. 

“I will rearrange your later appointments, your Excellency.”

“Assign them to my grandson,” Hades says, and pulls himself from the throne.

He could use some sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Me, slapping the Greek concept of soulmates: you can fit so much angst in this bad boy.
> 
> So, confession time: I actually dislike the concepts of soulmates and soulmate AUs. If they're your jam, more power to ya; they're just not my cup of tea. So I was really struggling when I read today's prompt! But I managed to go a bit of a different direction with it, and I hope you all enjoyed it! Orpheus is, of course, my name for the Amaurotine version of Pike. It actually has very little to do with the Greek myth (though of course, the OG bard who goes through literal hell for love only to lose it at the end fits _perfectly_ ) and everything to do with Persona 3. Because he holds Death within him, and who's the keeper of the dead? Hades. I know, I'm a genius :D All the stuff about Anamnesis and the Keeper of the Lore is my own headcanons, and I look forward to being immediately disproven when 5.3 drops.


End file.
